


Viva La Independencia

by trashprincehamlet



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Genderbending, I felt comfortable writing about my own country's history, Multi, Philippine Revolution AU, Racebending, Will be more Les Amis centered because that fits the context more, although I will put some stuff about the adults, practically all the characters except the adults are genderbent tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:57:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashprincehamlet/pseuds/trashprincehamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I decided to put Hugo's work against a backdrop of colonial, rather than classist, oppression. Random oneshots about canon (and canon-ish) events in the brick taking place in a Filipino, rather than French, setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Philippine Revolution AU version of how Marius and Eponine met. This is very loosely based on the chapter A Rose in Misery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I decided to post this thing-Philippine Revolution Les Mis was several loose headcanons in my head for a long time, and I'll be posting several oneshots in this verse on here. This chapter was the first thing that I had inspiration to write. Elias is genderbent Eponine, and Maria is fem!Marius.

Maria looked at the small apartment, with a mixture of relief and anxiety. Here she could express herself freely and think about her views with less censorship from her right-winger abuelito, but it was practically a chink in the great wall that was Manila. Her food would be eaten by rats, her fair face feasted on by mosquitoes, and her soft hands roughened from chores she had never had to do before.

As she unpacked, Maria reflected on her inauspicious life and personal uselessness. People always told her not to put herself down: she was beautiful, intelligent, or whatever. Deep down, Maria could tell they were just trying to make her feel better. She had never been awarded anything prestigious during her time in the convent, nor had she been particularly popular. She had not married after leaving school; instead, on the strength of a childhood bookishness, Maria was pursuing a college education and doing nothing that her grandfather deemed worthwhile.

At a loss, the girl leaned into an armchair.

Suddenly, she heard a knock at the door.

"Tao po?" a voice called.

Maria turned the knob, and the door opened to reveal a young man dressed in clothes that were no longer new. Despite the misery etched on his face, Maria could see that he had been full of life once, maybe even handsome.

"Señorita, do you have any money to spare?" The boy asked, in heavily accented, but surprisingly polite Spanish. "I'm terribly sorry...my brother's sick..."

Maria hesitated for a while. She had always been told not to give money to beggars because it was improper. Besides, she didn't have a lot of money herself, and she needed to buy food.

Eventually, her heart won out, and she gave him a pouch containing two pesos. That was enough to buy medicine, maybe even a few fish at the market if the boy haggled successfully. Surprised at his good fortune, the boy kissed Maria's hand and offered a weak "Salamat."

"I thank you for your kindness, Señorita. I'll be sure to pay you back in a week." This was an unfulfillable promise. Most peasants didn't earn that much in a week. Sometimes they weren't even paid. Maria sat down with him on the threadbare carpet. How was she supposed to act when receiving unexpected guests...? She'd never been good at talking to people.

"Listen...I don't think it's possible for you to earn that much money in a week. I won't blame you if you can't pay your debt. But if you are intent on doing so, come back here and I'll give you work cleaning my apartment."

The boy looked unsure.

"I know, I don't have much money myself...but I found a job translating Spanish and English works into Tagalog. I won't be destitute forever..." Maria trailed off.

The ragged boy shifted from foot to foot. After what seemed like forever, he gave a nod.

"In that case, may I ask for your name?"

"Elias."

"All right, Elias. Thanks for offering your help. If you need anything else, I'll be here to help."

"What's your name?" Elias asked in return.

"Maria. Of the Ponce de Guillermos from Paco."

"Why are you in a rundown apartment among people like me?" Elias eyed Maria suspiciously, as if preparing to attack if he found out that this was all a plot to harm him.

"I got, well, I was kicked out," the girl offered. "It's complicated, really." She didn't really feel like telling this story yet.

"Oh..."

Another uncomfortable silence passed between them.

"So, come over around Tuesday?"

"Yes."

Maria was happy to have someone to help her, but that wasn't her only reason for asking Elias for help. As she shook his hand and showed him out, Maria hoped she and Elias could also become friends somehow. She was miserable, had been since learning of the lies her grandfather had told of her father, and she wanted someone, anyone, to share that burden with.

Outside the door, Elias was having similar thoughts. The girl was humble and kind. She had sat down with him on the floor, and treated him like an equal, something that this boy of the streets was no longer used to. There was a strange warmth where her hand had touched his, a warmth that had nothing to do with the tropical weather. When Elias clasped his hands together, it didn't quite feel the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my fic! I'll be updating this soon. Basically, this is going to be several oneshot chapters, not necessarily chronological, but all related to each other somehow. Everything is going to be somewhat based on brick events, with a bit o musical here and there. While I will make changes (notice how this chapter isn't completely faithful to its brick counterpart), I'll do my best to keep the essence of the original, and keep everyone in character.
> 
> Word explanations:
> 
> "Tao po?"-"Is anyone home?" (literally translates to, "Are there people here?")  
> Pesos-Philippine currency. (This fic is set in Spanish-occupied Philippines, where two pesos was a lot of money. Today, two pesos isn't a lot, you'll probably be able to buy a few candies, but not much else, haha)  
> "Salamat."-"Thank you."  
> Tagalog-language most widely spoken in the Philippines. We've got other regional languages/dialects too, like Bisaya and Ilokano, but everyone can speak Tagalog.  
> Paco-a place in Manila where rich people used to live (now it's just a normal residential area, one of my friends lives there)
> 
> Thanks again for supporting me! I'm not a super-experienced fic writer, so constructive criticism is appreciated! Let me know what you think in the comments.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this is basically that scene in the musical where Marius and Cosette meet, with scattered references to the Brick's Luxembourg Gardens chapters that describe how they first met each other. It transitions to something that's essentially In My Life and ends on an On My Own-ish note. 
> 
> Just so you know, Elias is Eponine, Maria is Marius, and Cosimo is Cosette.
> 
> Genderbent and set in the 19th century, on-the-eve-of-revolution Philippines.

Elias had managed to escape from his father's gang of thugs. The boy knew he'd get screamed at later for being uncooperative in the heist, but right now, he'd much rather see Maria than steal statues from the Ermita parish church.

Walking through high society Manila, Elias couldn't help but feel distaste for the Philippine upper crust. Then again, what had the _burgis_ done to him? The only problem he had with all these damn rich people was that he was no longer one of them.

He found Maria waiting by a _panciteria_ on Escolta, where she usually spent _merienda_. _Anak ng puta_ , Elias wanted to say, _I'm a beggar at this feast_. He felt out of place, wearing a _camisa de chino_ in this fashionable shopping district.

"Elias! Come here," Maria called when she finally noticed him.

"The last time I checked, you were hard up, Señorita. Can you really afford a meal at this fancy place?"

"Oh, no worries," Maria reassured the boy. "The pay at the translators' has been better lately. 10 pesos a manuscript."

"Because the school year's starting? The bookshop people probably want to fleece all these Ateneistas."

"Do you really think they'd do that?" Maria was laughably naïve at times.

"Probably. Everyone is hard up these days."

"What do you want for merienda?"

"You're treating me? Are you sure? I'm practically just your houseboy-"

"You're my friend, Elias. I don't mind. Unless you want me to give you higher pay for the month-"

"No, I don't want your money, Señorita."

"What do you want, then?"

I want you to love me, Elias wanted to say, I want you to say I'm all you'll ever want.

Instead, he answered, "I want a bowl of miki noodles. Oh, and I like the way your hair looks today."

"I like the way you always tease," Maria giggled shyly.

A table in the panciteria freed up and they walked in.

"Yes, Itay, we've already bought a new set of pens, we just need to buy a copy of Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas, then drop by Ateneo to settle my fees. And, uh, there's this new chess set I want," a boy was saying, in Spanish, further down from where Elias and Maria were. Elias, who overheard the conversation, turned around and thought the young man looked vaguely familiar.

"You know I could never refuse you, Cosimo," replied an old gentleman who seemed to be the boy's father.

_Cosimo? Now I remember._

No wonder Elias had felt like he'd seen him before.

_Cosimo? How can it be?_

"Thank you, Itay-ouch!"

The boy looked up at Maria, who had absentmindedly bumped into him.

"I-I'm sorry..." he trailed off, blushing red.

"No, it's my fault, really," Maria answered as she dusted herself off.

"You can take my handkerchief," the boy said apologetically as he rejoined his father at the panciteria cake display. "I'll see you around!"

Maria was still a deep shade of red when the young man was well out of sight.

"Elias? Who was that boy?" she asked when they were seated at a table in the corner and sipping _tsokolate é._

"Some sheltered ilustrado kid, I bet. Probably doesn't know what it's like to live the way I do. Doesn't know how to talk to girls either, by the looks of it," Elias said with a tinge of bitterness as he dug into his miki.

"You sound jealous."

"I envy anyone with money, Señorita. And, well, that pile of books he was carrying... I could have been a student too."

Maria gave him a look full of pity. Elias wondered if she'd ever look at him with a feeling deeper than that.

"I think he's handsome," Maria sighed over her leche flan. "Intelligent, too."

"All excited now? God knows what you see in him."

"Elias, can you do me a favor? If it isn't too much trouble, please, find out where he lives."

"Your snooty college boy? What will you give me?"

"Anything."

"No, never mind," Elias said, stopping her from reaching for her wallet. "You're my friend. I'll do this for you. Shouldn't be too hard. I'm Elias. I know my way around Manila."

\--

As she went back home, Maria passed by the Jardín Botanico where she'd first seen him. It had been many years-and many "meetings"-since then, but she remembered everything.

_It was the week she'd first left home, and Maria was staring forlornly through the window of her cheap apartment at Manila, which seemed so great and forbidding all of a sudden. Was this what running away and being unwanted by your family did to you?_

_Like she did whenever she felt bad, the girl decided to take a walk. She deposited her bags on the dusty bed and went downstairs._

_It had rained last night, and a thick layer of mud coated the streets. Maria hitched her skirt up as high as she could without overstepping the bounds of modesty._

_The lonely girl passed through the cobbled streets, seeing young children, rich and poor, whose parents were trying to protect them from the monsoon. It seemed like the world was trying to mock her lack of a father._

_The Manila Public Market was a bright spot in the dreary afternoon. Rows of stalls covered by pastel umbrellas created a cheery sight in the middle of the rainy season. Maria was filled with a little hope._

_She bought a stick of fishballs from a street vendor and walked a little further._

_Soon, Maria saw the entrance to the Jardín Botanico de Manila, where she'd gone with her grandfather as a little girl. It was falling into disrepair, but the plants were abundant as ever._

_Going inside to look at the orchids, Maria saw a boy of about twelve dressed in the uniform of a student of the Ateneo elementary school. He wore a drab black raincoat and was holding the hand of an old man in a Spanish business suit, who was telling the child about a display of poisonous-looking berries._

_The little boy was inordinately plain, and his getup wasn't anything special either. But his smile was the brightest Maria had ever seen, and she thought of him the rest of the day._

Now, many years later, she was seeing that boy again. Many things about him had changed, but his smile had remained. And so had Maria's tenderness toward him.

She clutched the handkerchief he'd given her closer to her bosom, and fell asleep.

\--

Cosimo sat in the upstairs bedroom of the little house on Calle Anloague that was covered in vines. The gas lamp burned brightly in the darkened room, casting eerie shadows on the floor.

Itay had let the boy stay up late to fix his bag and books for classes which started next week. But Cosimo had gotten sidetracked.

He had opened his Physics book to one of its endpapers, and had started drawing the girl from the Jardín Botanico. Today was the first time Cosimo had seen her elsewhere, and he'd managed to embarrass himself, too.

The drawing was finished now and the girl's inky doppelgänger sat smiling on the endpaper. _I may be a good artist_ , Cosimo thought, _but I'll never be able to replicate how beautiful her smile is._

It had been quite a while since then, but Cosimo would always remember the sight of a pretty, rain-soaked girl sitting on a bench to better admire the orchids. If only he knew her name.

_What's the matter with you, Cosimo? Have you been too much on your own?_

Despite his rebuke of himself, Cosimo continued to look at his drawing and think of her. And when the gas lamp burned out and the only light in the room was the distant glow of the streetlights on Calle Anloague, Cosimo stayed awake, still looking.

\--

Elias stood on the corner of Anloague and Dasmarinas. He leaned against the fence of the little house that was covered in vines, and could see inside the upstairs window. Cosimo appeared to be up late, reading. This young man, who Elias remembered as the starving sacristan from the Montalban parish church, was going places.

And Elias was not.

_We were children together, Cosimo. My, my, look what's become of me._

The gas lamp had burned out, but Cosimo was still awake. The moonlight fell on his face, and Elias could see that he was smiling. Not mad and ecstatic, but content and happy. Elias didn't know if he'd ever feel that way.

Cosimo had everything Elias wanted: money, a loving parent, an education. And as if that wasn't enough, he was taking Maria away, too.

_Why does nothing work out for me?_

It began to rain, and Elias realized how pathetic he looked. 

The boy trudged through the muddy streets to his shanty on the edge of town. 

He was on his own again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GLOSSARY  
> 1\. Ermita-a place in Manila, Philippines that has a really nice parish church. It used to be a rich district, but after WWII it's become kinda sketchy and poor.  
> 2\. "burgis"-19th century Tagalog slang for the upper classes that comes from a mispronunciation of "bourgeois." Nobody uses that anymore.  
> 3\. panciteria-a small restaurant that usually serves pasta-type stuff. Sometimes panciterias serve little pastries, too.  
> 4\. merienda-afternoon snacks  
> 5\. camisa de chino-You're better off doing a quick google search if you want to know what it actually looks like, but it's this plain white shirt that's usually worn with red pants and a red neckcloth. Poor people in the 19th century would wear it.  
> 6\. Escolta-a shopping street in Manila that's near the Pasig river. It used to be a really nice place, but now it's, well, not that great anymore.  
> 7\. Ateneista-a student who goes to Ateneo. It's this prestigious private university here in the Philippines that's been around since the 19th century. My dad went there.  
> 8\. Sucesos de las Islas Filipinas-one of the earliest books about Philippine history. It was required reading in college back then.  
> 9\. Ok, "Cosimo" means "little lamp" in some dialect, I forget which. Isn't that a fitting name for Cosette?  
> 10\. Itay-Filipino term of endearment for a father.  
> 11\. tsokolate é - really thick hot chocolate  
> 12\. ilustrado-literally means "the enlightened ones." The term refers to rich Filipinos who could afford to go to college.  
> 13\. miki-a type of noodles here in the Philippines. It's a popular snack, but I don't really like them.  
> 14\. leche flan-kinda like a Filipino version of creme brulee, but softer.  
> 15\. Jardín Botanico-the Botanical Gardens in Manila, which, sadly, aren't that well-maintained. They have really nice orchids, too, so it's a shame.  
> 16\. Calle Anloague and Calle Dasmarinas-residential streets in Manila.   
> 17\. Montalban-a small town several kilometers east of Manila. I made it the Montfermeil of this AU.
> 
> If you want me to write something else set in this universe, go ahead and tell me because my summer is boring and I'd like to take requests! Constructive criticism is appreciated too.
> 
> Thanks for reading~! ♡♡♡


End file.
